When The World Comes Down On Me
by Sarcastic Twists
Summary: Threeshot. Claire Lyons always believed she and her boyfriend, Kemp Hurley, were meant for each other. But after one night with Weschester's newest playboy, she isn't so sure anymore. Kemp/Claire/Derrick. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RHINA!
1. Chapter 1

When The World Comes Down On Me

**Disclaimer: I know it's super tempting to say I own such a superficial (yet surprisingly addictive with moldable characters) series, but Lisi (LEE-see, yes I don't see how her parents named her that either) Harrison owns it. **

_'Cause you're all I have  
When the world comes down on me  
You're the one I love  
And I'm begging you to see  
__-All I Have by the Veronicas_

I sighed and put my hands over my eyes, covering the grinding mess on the dance floor from my perch on the sidelines. God, it is times like these that I really miss you, Kemp. Did you have to be so flipping smart (something that surprised us all) and go off to Massachusetts for Harvard? Couldn't you just stay here and go to NYU with me and practically everyone else?

No, I could never have made him do that. It was his dream to go off to Harvard, the college that practically _breeds _presidents, lawyers, and executives. Kemp was always the type of person to get what he wanted, no matter what. Now, the 'no matter what' was _me. _

You're probably thinking, "Why is Claire Lyons, the girl who essentially stalked Cam Fisher (her "soul" mate) for three years, is now pining after Kemp Hurley?" Well, after Cam dumped me flat on my ass for Allie Rose Singer (who he is still with, surprisingly, if the hour-long makeout session tonight was any indication) in sophomore year, I decided it was about time to move on. This time, I had thought back then, I was going to do it completely. Who would ever guess that Kemp had some sort of feelings for me? The ex-playboy had apparently fallen for the sweet and pure girl from Florida. The day was written in the books as the teenaged apocalypse.

I just saw it as the day I fully got over Cam Fisher.

I uncovered my eyes and looked onto the hardwood floors, feeling miserable as I saw my friends and their boyfriends (who, weirdly, are my friends now too) dancing together. Massie had her arms wrapped around Todd's neck while he smiled giddily. Sure, I supported my best friend and brother's relationship, but that never stops me from shuddering when I think about it. It's just so… weird. It was even weirder that they seemed to mesh perfectly. Dylan was shaking her hips and laughing at the newest joke Josh told her. I think them getting together was even more unexpected than Kemp and I getting together (somehow, people had the unrelenting feeling Massie and Todd would eventually date).

Kristen was sharing an iPod with Chris Plovert as they cuddled on the couch (two people _that _smart were bound to get together) and Alicia was twirling her hair as she flirted with her male harem (it's notable members are Danny Robbins and Jake Shapiro). Derrick, my non-friend but part of our little clique anyway, was flitting around like a butterfly (both always like to try every flower!) and dancing uncouthly with any female with a heartbeat.

He looked back and saw me nursing my vodka (I have turned to hard liquor for some company) and smirked in a way he most likely thought was _so _debonair. Derrick really just looked as though he was hungry and had seen the nicest slice of meat in the world. That's enough to make anyone shudder.

"Lyons! You seem to be hitting the drinks pretty hard." His chocolate brown eyes twinkled.

"Calm yourself, Harrington; this is only my second drink. I'm still sober enough to know _not _to get anywhere near you and a bedroom," I remarked, shaking the contents of my almost empty drink. It'll soon be time for a third!

"Yeah, right," he started, "I could get you in bed _without _the effects of too much alcohol. It's these dashing good looks I have." Derrick struck a model-like pose that made the surrounding girls swoon and made me roll my eyes.

"You look like a chicken on crack in that pose, Harrington. Go back to normal or I might walk away telling every person in the vicinity that you're some crazy stalker-slash-rapist out to get innocent girls in relationships."

He seemed slightly pained as I emphasized the word relationship. I wonder why. "So, you and Hurley still together?"

My eyebrow rose. "Are you still the biggest player in Westchester?"

"Point taken," he replied crisply. "_But, _he did leave you all alone in the biggest party of the year to fend for yourself in this feeding frenzy of very drunk, very perverted boys."

"Like you, you mean?" I said innocently. I widened my eyes and turned the whole of, "Aww, Claire is so adorable and harmless" on him. He didn't seem to fall for it.

Derrick smirked instead. "Yeah, _exactly _like me. Moreover, I don't think that whole act you're giving me is totally factual. I bet you're not even a light-weight."

I scrunched my eyebrows in anger. "You don't know that!"

"Really? So you _can't _hold your liquor?"

Damn, I backed myself into a corner with this one. I could both embarrass myself and tell him that I throw up after two drinks _or _I could tell the truth and say that I can drink like a manic with little to no repercussions. I have been known by my closer friends for seeming the most sober after being drunk out of my mind.

"What do you want me to say, Harrington?" I asked evasively.

"The truth would be astronomically fantastic, you know." He raised his eyebrow expectantly.

Crap. Think of something quick, Mind! "How about we have a little competition? Whoever is the most sober after drinking 20 shots wins." That wasn't what I expected, Mind.

"What does this prove, Lyons?" he asked. "It still doesn't answer what you're oh so cleverly avoiding."

"Well, it'll prove that if I don't vomit after the third shot, you'll know I'm not a light-weight. Duh," I said. Hmm, maybe this is why I keep my mind around: for these quick thinking moments.

"Fine," Derrick acquiesced, motioning his hand to the bar that Massie had created in the corner next to us. "Give us twenty shots of scotch!" he called. He looked over at me briefly and smirked. "And bring us a bucket for when the little one needs to puke!"

My eyes flashed dangerously. "_Little one_? I will have you know that I'm far from being little! I'm a mature young adult."

"I hope you know how contradicting you sound. There is no such thing as a 'mature young adult'," Derrick replied as the bartenter brought the twenty small glasses on a tray. He nodded at us with a ghost of a knowing smirk on his face and walked away, leaving us to glare at each other.

Derrick raised his glass. "Bottoms up, Lyons." He downed the contents of the glass quickly and looked at me to do the same. I grabbed two glasses and drunk them as quickly as he did. I gave him a sinister smile that could rival any of his.

The night kept going like this, each of us trying to surpass the other as we gulped the drinks one after another. Even after we finished the first batch, we ordered even more. I began feeling tipsy and even Derrick looked a little inebriated. But for some reason, I was having _fun _getting drunk with Derrick Harrington. We were laughing at everything we said (though the scotch may have had some influence) and the melancholy feeling Kemp leaving gave me was almost totally suppressed. Derrick had changed seats from across from me to right next to me, his arm swung lazily over my shoulder. It's oddly something I didn't mind.

He looked down at me. "I guess you can hold your scotch. You won, Lyons."

I looked up, our faces a hair's breath away. "I suppose I did, Harrington."

"What, no gloating? _You _were right, and _I _was wrong. Aren't you going to reap the benefits of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?" He looked at me with consternation written all over. Poor boy.

I smiled at him. "I think you're doing a good enough job with it without my incredibly witty comments."

Derrick chuckled lowly. "You're right. Maybe it's because you make me so crazy that I start insulting myself instead. Lyons, you're _a lot _different than any of the girls I know."

"In what way do I make you crazy? In a way that you'd want to strangle me or in… another way?" I asked hesitantly. I'm actually a little scared by his answer. Is it true that he hates me as much as he says? He leaned his head even closer, his lips brushing my ear. I felt a shiver run down my spine, its cold finger mocking me with the traitorously pleasurable feeling.

"In another, very tingly way. You drive me insane, but mostly because I can't stand being without you every damn second. I have absolutely no idea why this is, so please don't ask me."

"Are you drunk?" I can't help it! He cannot be serious about all of this. He's _Derrick Harrington_, the boy who took over Kemp's place as pervert once he turned into a monogamous person for me. The boy who has slept with all of the Westchester's female teens and never looked at them again. Derrick can't possibly mean any of this unless he's more out of it than I thought.

"I'm perfectly aware of what I'm doing. Are _you _sober?" he asked me quietly, turning his head as he pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

My breath was almost coming out in pants. "Yes," I said quietly as his arm crept slowly down to my waist.

"Good."

And then he kissed me. I can't lie and say that I didn't immediately think of Kemp. His face was burned into my mind, and I almost believed it was he. My mind conjured images of him and it almost felt the same as when I kissed him. It was a perfunctory reaction after being with one guy for so long.

"Claire," Derrick groaned quietly.

I opened my eyes, but didn't push him away. He had said my name for the first time; I couldn't believe it. Closing my eyes again, I couldn't see Kemp anymore. All I saw was Derrick's caramel eyes that always seemed as if he was up to something. All I could feel was his soft long hair as I ran my fingers through it. I couldn't even remember my own name, let alone Kemp's.

Losing myself to feeling, I kissed him even harder. Everything escalated from there. The touches hotter, the kisses fiercer, until we practically sprinted from the couch and into one of the Block's spare bedrooms.

I'm sure you could figure out what happened afterwards. The surprising thing was that the thought that I was Kemp's girlfriend never crossed my mind. The thought that I was going into a bedroom with one of the people who have aggravated me since ninth grade never deterred from my lust haze. I didn't think of anything at all.

I could only feel.

-0-

Sunlight streamed through the delicate lace blinds, making me turn myself over and cover my head with a pillow. My head was pounding atrociously and my throat was begging for some water. I groaned as I recognized the distinct sign of a hangover. Man, what I would give to drink and have no side effects. Those doctors should really get right on that one.

A grunt nearly identical to mine (just around an octave deeper) sounded through the quiet room. My eyes widened and my lips pinched together in horror. What in the world happened last night?

Oh right, there is that whole sleeping-with-your-worst-enemy thing. My God, I feel like I'm on Gossip Girl, era Seventeen Candles. This also proves I need to stop obsessing over TV shows so much. I'll start _acting _like them.

Derrick flopped over on his side, facing me with his firmly shut eyes. I stealthily (or at least I thought) crept out of the bed and looked around the room to collect my clothes. As I was looking for my other red pump shoe, I noticed Derrick was watching me.

I jumped. "You're awake."

He half-smiled. "Thank you for stating the obvious, Lyons. Now, come back to bed." Derrick patted the space beside him that was nicely indented with my body. It _does _seem pretty tempting. Massie buys good matresses. Crap, no! What am I thinking? It does _not _seem tempting and I will _not _go back there. I have a boyfriend, after all.

Oh my God, Kemp! I completely forgot about him. How is he going to react? No, he will never know because _no one _will ever tell him.

"This did not happen," I said primly.

"Back to the innocent act? You know very well that this happened. And, just in case you forgot, the 'this' is we had sex, plain and simple."

"NO!" I cried unhappily. "This situation is far from being 'plain and simple'. I have a boyfriend, a boyfriend who I care very deeply about. He is not going to be happy that I slept with one of his friends! His successor, pretty much!"

"Notice you didn't say that you love said boyfriend. Can't bring yourself to have feelings for the now incredibly boring boy?" he said, his signature smirk blooming on his face.

"I didn't say it because it goes without saying," I gritted through my teeth. "How can you be so blasé about this whole thing? Kemp is going to freak out! How could you not care you did this? Oh my God, how could _I _have done this at all!?"

I am going into hysterics. It is very normal in this stage of distress for me.

Derrick stood from the bed, his boxers low on his hips. I forced myself to look him in the face and not let my gaze drift south. I'd never hear the end of it. I am supposed to be the innocent one, dammit!

"Lyons, relax. It's all going to be fine."

I. Don't. Believe. Him. It is not going to be fine! I told him so and he just laughed at me. "You're overreacting. You just need to take a deep breath and we'll figure this out."

"And you are underreacting, so I'm going to leave now. We won't be talking about this because it shall never be mentioned. I have a drawn a proverbial veil over last night and that is _how it is going to stay_." I slipped on the shoe that I had finally found and walked briskly toward the door. A hand clamped on my bicep, keeping me from leaving. I gritted my teeth and said softly, "Let go of me."

"Claire," he said just as softly, but without the harsh edge. "We _need _to talk about this."

I whirled around, feeling my hair crackle in anger. "But we're not. There is absolutely no reason to talk about this. In fact, just forget this ever happened. Just think of me and our time together as another notch on your bedpost. It meant nothing to either of us."

Derrick's eyes shone with barely suppressed fury. "You know very well, Lyons, that it meant something. You _know _that you remember exactly what I said last night. I don't think it's necessary to say again."

"You were _drunk, _Derrick! As was I!" I almost roared at him. "You were confused, disoriented; you had no fucking idea what you were saying! Pretty much, you just spun some romantic crap for me to sleep with you. And guess what? It _worked. _So, I'm leaving now and if you try to stop me one more time, I _will _cut off your hand and then the part of your anatomy that you seem most proud of." I shook his hand finally off me, and left the room in a huff.

I ignored the hurt and almost broken look on the notorious playboy's face. I ignored the thumping and constriction in my heart as the conversation echoed in my mind. I ignored the people passed out in the Block's living room as I headed toward the guesthouse. I ignored everything around me.

But what I couldn't ignore was the fact that last night kept playing on repeat in my mind. I hated it, but I mostly hated how much it made me smile happily.

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**Okay, my first three-shot. I'm just hoping I'll finish it all. But since it's Rhina's written b-day present, I better finish it. She helped me somewhat with the plot. Well, more like gave me the last pairing I **_**better **_**have. **

**So, enjoy, and hopefully review? :) **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Same as last chapter. **

_He can't see the smile I'm fakin'  
And my heart's not breakin'  
'Cause I'm not feelin' anything at all  
And you were wild and crazy  
Just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated  
__-The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift_

The sharp ring of my landline (who still calls on the landline, anyway?) shattered my thoughts and took me out of the stupor I had been in for the last two hours. Stupid Derrick, stupid Kemp, stupid _me! _

Scotch should go die in a hole and so should Massie's incredibly comfortable mattresses.

"Hello?" I asked when my inner rant ended.

"Kuh-laire! You get your ass in my house, _now_!" Massie screeched into the phone. I had to move my ear away from the ancient phone to keep some of my hearing intact.

"Mass…" I said cautiously. The instinct to creep quietly when it came to an angry Massie Block never leaves. "What is going on?"

There was silence for a moment and I could just _hear _her fuming. "Just come over to my house where the PC and I will be waiting. We'll tell you then." She hung up without a goodbye.

As I walked the few feet to the Block's main house, I felt terrified. Maybe it would have been best to stay in my dorm in the city. Then maybe nothing would have gone amiss this weekend. Maybe then, I wouldn't feel so confused about everything.

You know what? I am staying in blissful denial. It's a much better (and less emotionally damaging) place to be.

I opened the door, not noticing (or caring) that it was unlocked. Feeling incredibly anxious to know what was going on, I almost sprinted toward Massie's room, the unofficial meeting place. This time, I knocked before I entered. I had the uncanny feeling I was going to go through something that would make The Godfather proud.

Alicia opened the door, a stony look on her self-proclaimed exotic face. I gulped, hearing the sound reverberate through the eerily quiet room. What the hell could I have done?

"Hey guys," I said shakily.

"Claire, I think you've noticed that we aren't exactly pleased with you. There's no reason for pleasantries," Kristen replied, her lips pursing.

"I think a brick wall could have noticed," I responded wryly. "The only question is: why are you so displeased with me?"

Dylan, never one to say anything bluntly, answered me. "You know that Kemp is our friend? He's a friend to _all _of us. And being a friend means you have certain duties to that friend."

I didn't like where this was going. "Yes, I understand he's our friend. Is there a reason _why _you need to tell me?"

"Cut the crap, Claire," Massie finally spoke. "We all saw you go into one of my spare bedrooms last night with Derrick Harrington. Guess you've always had a thing for players, huh?"

Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I tried to look peeved at the mere suggestion. As if, nothing happened. "Are you kidding me, Massie? I would _never _do that Kemp. He's my boyfriend and I care _extremely_ about him."

Derrick's voice echoed in my mind, _"Notice you didn't say that you love said boyfriend. Can't bring yourself to have feelings for the now incredibly boring boy?" _Damn it, why can't my mind shut up and forget about him?

"Just stop with the innocent act, Lyons!" Alicia shrieked. Yet, all I could think of was how much nicer my surname sounded when Derrick said it. "We _know _that something happened. You two weren't exactly very secretive or quiet about your little escapade."

"Claire, just tell us the truth," Dylan interrupted before Alicia could bite my head off. "Did you sleep with him?"

I felt surrounded and nearly claustrophobic. The gig seems up, doesn't it? I don't think pulling the innocent face would work this time. I hung my head sadly, coming to a decision. I hate my conscience sometimes. "Yes, I slept with him."

Massie shook her head at me. "I can't believe you, Claire. How could you do that to Kemp? He loves you!"

"I don't know, I just don't know," I mumbled, almost to myself. I looked up at their faces shimmering with disapproval, anger, and pity. "Can we just forget this ever happened? Kemp doesn't have to know since I will _never _do that again. How about it?" I smiled slightly.

Alicia and Dylan shared a brief look, something I normally wouldn't have caught. However, I did, and the realization of what that look meant was more than I could handle.

"You've already _told _him?" I demanded.

Kristen looked down at her feet, seeming remorseful. "He deserved to know, Claire."

"But you weren't even sure I did anything! You asked me like two minutes ago!" I cried. Why, why, why is this happening? One night and everything is crashing down! This is the worst thing that has happened in my _life_.

Alicia's eyes spit fire at him. I had almost forgotten that she was closest to Kemp. "We were sure, Claire. The only reason we even asked you to come over was to confront you and so you know that you did something wrong. And, we have a message from Kemp."

I glared at them all. "What would that be?"

"He said to tell you, 'I'll be in Westchester in an hour. Meet me in the park.'"

"And when did he say this?" I sighed, knowing that this was going to be bad.

"Around 45 minutes ago," Massie said, her demeanor radiating an icy chill. "So you better get going. You know Kemp; he's always there at least ten minutes ahead of schedule. Or maybe you _don't _know Kemp. Because I'm sure he doesn't enjoy being cheated on."

I didn't respond to Massie's thinly veiled insult. I simply turned around and walked out the door to face my undoubtedly furious boyfriend.

-0-

The day was ironically beautiful. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping merrily, and the park was abuzz with life. There were little kids playing in the swings and slides as their WASP mothers gossiped among themselves. Everyone seemed happy to be alive today, as if there was some effervescent drug in the air.

My inner turmoil, however, kept me from fully appreciating any of this.

Kemp was standing under the oak tree, one surprisingly similar to the one at OCD. We've spent so many good memories there, and it seems like we're committing blasphemy by making it the site of our likely break-up. He looked immaculate; his hair was in place for once, his clothes seemed carefully chosen, but his eyes (even from here) were as blank as an empty glass.

I looked terrible. My hair was tangled and dirty, remnants of the… _active _night before; my clothes were in a haphazard manner and my aura spread one word forward: Guilty.

"Hey, Kemp," I said as I reached the oak.

"Hey yourself." His voice was as vacant as his eyes.

"So… I guess it's kind of obvious why we're here." My voice was hoarse because of the nerves, but I was afraid to clear my throat. I didn't know what could set off the ticking clock that is Kemp Hurley.

My statement seemed to snap some life into him. "_Yeah, _Claire, it is 'kind of obvious'. When you cheat on someone and the person finds out, it is kind of obvious what they would talk about."

"Kemp," I said softly. "I am _so _sorry."

"Of course you're sorry," he began angrily. Guess the life is back in him. "That's what everyone says when they do something. It doesn't necessarily mean they mean it, do they?"

"But _I _mean it!" I shrieked. "It was stupid, reckless, drunken sex with someone I barely get along with! Why can't you believe I'm sorry about it?"

"Because you did it in the first place! If I was so damn important to you, then maybe I might have cropped up in your mind at least once while you were _having fun _with Derrick Harrington."

I growled in frustration, rubbing my temples where a headache was growing. Why doesn't he just believe me? It's not as if it was such a big deal! _Maybe it's because you know that you would do it again in a second, _my inner voice taunted. My rational, and currently my favorite side, shut up that voice and found something to retort.

"Kemp, I'm telling you, it will _never _happen again. Just please, believe me on this one thing."

"How can I? Maybe I deserve all of this! I mean, I was player for almost all of my life and cheating on girls was like a favorite pastime. I think karma is getting back at me from its long overdue vendetta. Now I know how those girls probably felt. Being cheated on is the worst feeling in the world." Kemp hung his head sadly, shuffling his feet. "It's like I'm not good enough for anyone. I feel rejected, hurt, stupid, and dozens of other emotions that I can't even decipher. It sucks."

My eyes widened sadly and I tilted his chin upwards with a finger. "I never want to hear you say that again. You are _not _stupid; you are so worthy that it makes other guys seem undignified, ugly, and so completely useless. You're amazing, Kemp, and any girl would be lucky to have you."

Kemp half-smiled. "Does this mean that we're breaking up?"

I smiled back shyly. "I don't want to."

"Then we won't," he said with a tone of finality. "I believe you didn't really mean it. I mean come on, it's Derrick Harrington!"

I laughed nervously, surprisingly myself. Normally, I would be hunched over laughing at the mere suggestion of Derrick having feelings for someone. But now, I don't know. I keep hearing his words repeatedly, making me crazy. I hate it, but it makes this whole reconciliation with Kemp less than sweet, makes me feel something akin to regret.

But I have to forget about that. I'm with Kemp and that's all that matters. No matter what that stupid inner voice says.

-0-

Kemp stayed with me for most of the day before he had to rush back to Massachusetts. He had left without much notice and _somehow _Ivy League schools frown upon that. It just reminded of his bad boy persona. Honestly, it gave me a little thrill to know he still had it.

I twirled my red umbrella Kemp had just bought me. It was cloudy and little raindrops were beginning to fall. It was a laughable contrast to how it had been when I was about to meet my still-boyfriend.

"Lyons!" A voice shouted out to me. I heard their footsteps falling rapidly as they ran toward me. Oh please, for the love of God, don't let it be--

Derrick grabbed my hand and turned me around, almost as easily as I had with my umbrella. Apparently, soccer does work _some _of your arm muscles. "Lyons," he panted, keeping his hand intertwined in mine. _Damn those tingles. _"We are going to talk about what happened. And I heard that you and Hurley had 'a talk' today. How are you?" His thumb stroked my knuckle softly.

I wrenched my hand out of his grip. "Who are you and what have you done with Derrick Harrington? Because the boy I know doesn't ask a one night stand if they are fine after having talk with their boyfriends."

He glared down at me. "Why are you continuing to deny that you are not just a one night stand? To be honest, it's getting rather annoying."

"Oh, _I'm _getting annoying?" I looked disbelievingly at him. "While you're the one mobbing me around asking for a _talk_?"

"Point taken. But, you know why we need to talk. This is not just another daily occurrence in my life. I don't _feel _this way around the girls I slept with." Derrick ran a hand through his hair, and I almost had to restrain myself from removing his hand and doing it myself.

_Where are these thoughts coming from? _Oh right, that inner voice of mine.

"You might just be a little confused. Maybe because I'm slightly closer to you than your other whores." Did I just call them whores? Dylan was one of them, and trust me, she is the farthest thing from a whore. What is wrong with me?

"Damn it, Lyons! You _know _I care about you! Stop acting as though I was drunk when I said it and you were drunk when you heard it. We were both sober enough to understand what the other was saying. You were sober enough to know you kissed me and you know what would happen when we entered the guest bedroom. Stop lying to me _and _yourself!" His eyes blazed with fury, directed at me for once. I have never seen him honestly angry with me. He's never lost his patience with me.

…Maybe because what he's saying is true?

"Harrington, I just can't do this right now. I can't do this at any time! I am still with Kemp and I want to be with him. He's--"

Derrick disgustedly interrupted. "Please, I'd rather not hear about Hurley's supposed good qualities. But why can't you do this right now? If it were such a horrible idea that I cared about you, then why haven't you just told me, plain and simple, 'No'? You could have said it yesterday. You could have said it this morning. You could say it now. But you haven't. You have avoided and tried to put me off, but you've never told exactly how you feel. That's one thing _I _want to hear right now."

I shook my head, trying to stop him from his monologue, trying to stop _myself_ from hearing any of this. Because I know that if I let myself fully comprehend what he's saying, I won't be able to keep my promise to Kemp. "I can't tell you what I feel. Because I'm not even sure! I don't know if I hate you, like you, just want you to go away forever, _I don't know_! I can't give you an answer to a question I'm not prepared to answer."

"Lyons, you don't always have to know everything. Sometimes you just have to feel things, ignoring logic and whatever other crap is keeping you from knowing what you want. I know that you don't love Kemp; it is plain to see for me. I know you more than you think I do and you know _me _more than you think you do. Just listen to something other than that rational part of your brain."

My logical side told me to walk away. My logic told me to forget all about him and stay with Kemp. Sweet, dependable, _boring, _Kemp. My rational side told me to do many things, one of which _wasn't _grabbing Derrick by the scruff of his neck and slamming my lips on his. My inner voice cheered me on while a bubbly feeling gave me tingles all around. He dragged me closer, deepening the already fiery kiss.

This was wrong; this was so, so wrong. I couldn't be doing this once _again _to Kemp. I care about him, more like a brother than an actual boyfriend, but I care about him. I can't hurt him without feeling a little hurt myself. But being with Derrick is amazing. Not just the physical aspect, but also the other parts. Our banter, the way I could spend a whole day with him and never feel bored, the way he sometimes seems protective of me. Everything with him is intense and incredible and I wouldn't trade being with him for a safe and monotonous relationship.

My rational side once again disagreed with the entire ordeal and I very nearly believed it. Then Derrick Harrington, player extraordinaire, did something with his tongue that wiped my mind of all thoughts but one.

_Sod off, logic. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Yeah, I'm **_**totally **_**Lisi Harrison. That's why I'm here on fanfiction putting my ideas for free on the web instead of selling it. Isn't that fantabulous?**

_Yo no se mañana, yo no se mañana,  
Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo  
Yo no se si soy para ti, si seras para mi  
Si lleguemos a amarnos o odiarnos  
Yo no se mañana, yo no se mañana,  
Quien va a estar aqui  
-Luis Enrique: Yo No Se Mañana _(The translation will be on the bottom of the page, just in case you guys need it)

It's been a few weeks now.

A few long and frankly nerve-racking weeks. Kemp comes down every weekend, so I can never be with Derrick during that time. Moreover, during the week, when school is out, we have to sneak around, making sure neither of our friends sees us. It's exciting, I'll admit, but I am getting so tired of it all. The sneaking around, the carefully concocted lies, the disappointed look on Derrick's face when he sees me holding hands with Kemp is taking it's toll. I sometimes miss the simplicity only being with Kemp gave me, the boring stability. But then I see Derrick's smile and I can't imagine a time without it.

My life is too confusing.

I know I don't want to give Derrick up, that's for sure. Nevertheless, I have _history _with Kemp; how could I possibly just throw that away on something that might not even last? Derrick and I, well, we're unstable. We still argue like an old married couple (and not even the one with lots of sex; I had asked him if we could chill on that aspect) and we often don't speak to each other for a while. Then we see the other doing something so normal and so completely them (in Derrick's case, is sitting on his favorite bench in Central Park to people-watch) and we are right back where we started. It's so frustrating!

Derrick's even getting angrier with me stringing him along repeatedly. He is pleading (_and pleading is something that is not in the _How to Be Derrick Harrington _manual_) with me to break up with Kemp and be with him. Derrick wants to go public; he wants to know he's the only person I'm kissing, the only person I want. I am starting to think he's more vulnerable that he lets on.

But I _can't. _I just can't randomly break up with Kemp and then have him find out I am dating the very person I cheated on him with, and said I wouldn't do it again. I love Kemp, like a brother, and I really don't want to break his heart further. He is a really good person, and how could you break a good person?

I just wish this turbulence would stop. I wish I could just make a choice. If only it wouldn't hurt someone so much.

-0-

A phone call changed it all. Isn't it funny how the last time I had gotten a phone call this important, I had to confront Kemp on sleeping with Derrick? Calling always changes things; it's an ironic fact, a twist of fate no one is ever ready for. However, as that significant ring tone blooms through your serene room, you know that something could very well shatter the way you view the world.

And in my case, this always has to happen that way.

"Hey, lover," I said, grinning shyly as I pressed the phone closer to my ear. I leaned back on my headboard, and curled my legs inward, preparing for the hours long conversations Derrick and I always have.

"Hey, Lyons." His voice was oddly desolate; the inflection was nearly nonexistent, replaced by a placid and boring tone. What the hell could be wrong?

"Derrick? Are you okay?" Ugh, never ask that question, dummy! Derrick _hates _when people ask such a trite question…

He sighs, sounding much older than he used to. "I think we need to talk, Lyons."

My blood froze over in its tracks, churning softly to a stop. My heart, weirdly due to those frozen veins, sped up, keeping in time with my racing thoughts. Those words only mean one thing: heartbreak. I have had Cam say those enough for me to know _exactly _what they mean.

"About?" I tried to keep my voice as calm as his, but I've (_nor anyone else in the world) never_ been as good as Derrick Harrington at keeping his real thoughts at bay. My voice cracked at the end and I resisted the urge to slap myself.

"Just…meet me at our park, okay? I'll explain there." Derrick hung up quickly after that.

My breathing staggered out, slowly and harshly, just like I'm sure the torture at the park would be. What could have gone wrong? Did he get sick of me refusing to go public? What could it be?

The questions flew through my mind, yet no answers arrived. Eventually, I composed my shock long enough to get some clothes on and walk the three blocks to Central Park. I'm just hoping everything I am thinking is wrong.

-0-

It's cloudy again, as if it's going to rain. Well, at least the gloomy setting works with my feelings this time. Raindrops don't fall, which makes me frustrated. Why can't the day be washed away with the rain?

I saw Derrick on his self-proclaimed bench, leaned back with his eyes tightly closed, as if he was a little kid who didn't want to face his parents' wrath after being caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar. His messy blond hair looked long and unkempt, reaching his shoulders, and nearly covering the closed orbs. His face was gaunt, especially in the grey and downcast scene. I looked too bright in comparison. My yellow rain boots and electric blue pea coat clashed with his black hoodie and dark wash jeans.

This scene reminded me all too much of something in the past, and I can't help but laugh when I think how ironic this is all becoming.

I tapped Derrick on the shoulder, scared to break him from his most likely horrid thoughts. He shook his head, as if trying to get back to reality, and tilted his head upwards to look at me. I half-smiled at him, scared to lean in for a kiss. I seem to be scared of his reactions a lot today.

"Hey," I whispered.

"Hey," he responded just as softly.

"So…" I had never felt this awkward around him. It has never seemed _possible _to me. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

As much as I had anticipated his words, as much as I had mentally prepared myself for them, as much as I had dealt with these words in the past, it still hurt more than I could have ever imagined. "I don't think this is working out."

Tears sprang to my eyes, but I held them back, hoping the rain (___?) _would finally start. "Why?" I croaked out at last.

"Because…" He seemed frustrated by this own thoughts and reasoning. "Because we can't work. We're just so _different, _Lyons. And, we shouldn't keep the other back from finding someone more compatible." As he said this excuse (it is always an excuse, a lie, when it comes to him), his voice was that calm, collected coolness. That's not the Derrick Harrington I'm used to.

"That is _so _not a reason!" I yelled at him, the dam bursting free. How can he be so damn unfeeling about this whole thing? Can't he see the thing we have is so much more than just a fling?

"What do you mean it's not a reason? It is a perfectly good reason. We wouldn't work. That's that."

"No!" I cried, refusing to believe what he was trying to say. "That could _never _be your reason. You love the fact that we're so different! You hate monotony and similarities; you want the clashing of personalities, the screaming, the arguing, and the violent and passionate way we work! You _know _that! Now, what's the real reason you want to break up?"

His face had been slowly breaking apart the mask, the mask of cold indifference he has never been able to perfect on me. I've just been too good at seeing him, his scared and hidden thoughts and personality. When I finished, the façade was shed away, revealing his rage (oh, that perfect and _feeling _anger I missed).

"Fine! Do you want to know the _real _reason I want to break up? Because you still want Kemp!" My eyes widened in incomprehension. What? "You can't break up with him because you still want to be with just him! Not me, him! It has always been him! I've liked you for so fucking long, Lyons, and Kemp _knew _that. But he still went after you and won you over. And I could never compete with that! No matter how much better I liked to say I was in comparison to him, I still wasn't! Can't you understand that?"

Oh, I understand. I just don't think he understood why I was still with Kemp. Frankly, I don't know anymore why I am. When I was going to the park all those weeks ago, I think I was only scared because Kemp was going to find out what I did. He was going to see me as a bad, dirty, imperfect person, and that kind of guilt killed me inside. Really, I wasn't as terrified of losing Kemp as I was just a few minutes ago with the thought of losing Derrick. In fact, how I _still _am. He wants to break up, but for what? For a reason that isn't true?

I was _not _going to let that happen.

I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at me, forcing him to pay attention to what I had to say. "You're going to listen to me, Harrington, because honestly, you have everything completely off. I'm only still with Kemp because I'm afraid of hurting him. Come on, we have history and I love him like a big brother. But nothing more or less. I didn't want to break his heart again." Derrick's eyes looked at his feet, but he seemed to be processing what I told him. I was hoping he was accepting it as true.

"Okay…" he began after a pause. "I believe you. But, all that other stuff about us not being compatible? That's partly true. We _aren't. _We fight and bicker so much. We hurt the other constantly, normally me to you, and I couldn't live with myself if I made you honestly hate me one day. I don't know how we could live like that." He removed his head from my hold, and I let him. However, I didn't let him break eye contact. Derrick needed to _get _this.

"Derrick! You have to _stop _being afraid of those what ifs and maybes. Weren't you the one who told me that life is about taking chances and being reckless? You won't _live _if you are so worried about tomorrow and those possibilities. I don't know if tomorrow we'll be together, or if the world crashes around us. I don't know if we'll still want each other or hate the other's guts. I don't know if I will hear your voice before all others and know that you're somewhere that I can easily reach you. I don't know anything about tomorrow and what it brings, but I don't _care. _I want to be with you, so much, and I'm not going to worry about tomorrow and what it might bring. You're _mine _right now, and I'm not going to waste any time living my life without you."

My breathing came out in short pants and my throat was hoarse from the yelling. If I can do anything in these next few moments, I just want Derrick to understand that I want him and I want to be with him. I could easily picture myself in love with him, I'm not going to let my fears, and insecurities get in the way of that. Nor will I let _his _fears and insecurities get in the way of that.

Derrick looked at me, enthralled by my words, I suppose. He looked like he was thinking, before his face broke out into a smirk, a smirk I welcomed as much as I wanted to smack it off.

"So, you want me, huh, Lyons?" he said slyly, coming much too close to me. His arm rested on my hip, stroking it softly with his thumb. My breathing came out haggard again, but for a much different reason.

"Well, Harrington, if you don't start calling me 'Claire' sometimes I may not keep wanting you," I said teasingly, not really expecting him to start calling me 'Claire'. His name for me is Lyons, and I love it all the same. But he understood! The rapid change from serious to teasing was the way we worked. When we understood what happened, the transition was always smooth.

He chuckled lowly, sending electrical currents through my veins, putting everything in slow motion, despite my quickly beating heart. It is amazing how this boy can make my heart thump so irregularly. This has to be unhealthy.

Derrick leaned in quickly, capturing my lips and titling my head upwards. I closed my eyes in bliss, wanting nothing more than to stay in this position forever, savoring it until we grow old and grey. Suddenly, I felt a drop of liquid on my cheek, causing both of us to move away and look at the sky. Transparent drops of lovely cleansing water rained down on us, showering us in its renewal.

"I guess rain's our thing," he said, looking at me with a disarming grin. It's a good thing I focus well.

"Yeah, it really is, Derrick." I raised myself on tiptoes and pressed more kisses on his face, as quickly as the raindrops began falling.

"Claire, Claire, Claire," he started, prompting me to stop my assault (though, an assault he is probably very happy with) and look at him in shock. He _actually _listened to my joke. Wow, that's a first. I can't say it didn't make me happier though. It's like when your boyfriend calls you a pet name like 'love' or 'babe'. For us, it's our own names. It's so dysfunctional and absolutely mad, but that was _us, _crazy and unpredictable, going about each day as if it's our last.

"Yeah?" I asked, my shock lessening.

"I just want to say, I'd stick with you even if the world was ending. Even if the world was going to pits, we hated each other, and were as far away as humanly possible, I am sure I'd still want to see your face and hear your voice first everyday. You're right; we have to live. And I'm going to keep living with you right here as long as possible."

I grinned widely, continuing to kiss him. "I like that very much, Mr. Harrington."

Derrick smirked back, kissing me fiercely and leaving me dazed once he stopped for a minute. "Yes, Ms. Lyons, I'm sure your very horny side is pleased by this."

"Hey-" I began, but never finished, since he once again cut me off with his lips. But for now, maybe I'd let him.

We only have this one chance to live. We only have one shot to have fun, to laugh, to cry, to love. Yeah, I _don't _know what's going to happen tomorrow. I don't know anything about this unprecedented and frankly impulsive relationship. All I know is that I, Claire Stacey Lyons, want Derrick Andrew Harrington to be part of my life as long as I have it. I am not going to waste any time. And this time, this _life, _starts…

Now.

**

* * *

**

**Translation (by me): **

_**I dont' know tomorrow, I don't know tomorrow  
If we will be together, if the world ends  
I do not know if I'm for you, if you are for me  
If we end up falling in love, or hating each other  
I don't know tomorrow, I don't know tomorrow  
Who is going to be here **_

**And it's finished! I'm happy it's done :) I think it's overly cheesy after it's previous coolness, but I hope you guys liked it. **


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